It's a far cry to payday

[sovay]

First, the serious thing: I will not be at Worldcon. For anyone who was scheduled on a panel with me, I am sorry not to be there to talk poetry, influences, and bad art; between my finances and some family things, it just turns out not to be possible this year. Send me postcards, you people who have my address. I will hold out hope for next year.

The other things are better. Last night, Eric and I (and Anita and Eddy) ventured out into the Second Coming of the Deluge to hear Birdsongs of the Mesozoic at AS220 with humglum and greygirlbeast. Except for short clips off their website, I had never heard the group before. I knew they contained Roger Miller and Erik Lindgren, and that Eric once described them as "the world's hardest-rocking chamber music quartet." I am tempted to gloss them if Stravinsky did not exist, it would be necessary for mad scientists to invent him, but that would not do justice to their three keyboards, tape loops, guitar, record player, and washboard with Mr. T painted on the reverse. With sheet music. I type this and my brother suddenly stops short in the hallway and asks, "What are you listening to?" which happens to be the last piece on their self-titled EP (1983, although I'm playing it off their recent and fantastic compilation Dawn of the Cycads); it is called called "Triassic, Jurassic, Cretaceous" and features birdcalls, piano arpeggi, and multiple tracks of percussion. I hope that's a better précis. By now you can probably tell I like them. I should also mention the opening act, a man with three different kinds of squeezebox and two bows for his fiddle who played slip jigs, reels, a bunch of Playford, and led the audience in chanteys like "Haul Away for Rosie," throwing out casually technical asides of comparative musicology as he went along. I kind of want to hear "The Trim-Rigged Doxy" accompanied on a Hardanger fiddle now. In any case, terrific music and company, we survived our run-in with a very loudly drunk man on Empire Street, and we did not drown on our way back to Boston; it was a very good night all round. I am only disappointed that Birdsongs of the Mesozoic do not sell T-shirts, because I really want one.

And this afternoon, rushthatspeaks, weirdquark, and I watched Vincente Minnelli's The Pirate (1948), with Gene Kelly and Judy Garland. This film may be indescribable. I can write that it contains a ballet sequence with Gene Kelly in artfully tattered hot pants and the stage on fire, or that Judy Garland performs, while hypnotized, a broadside-ballad number whose scansion depends on two different pronunciations of "Caribbean," or that the finale involves beating Walter Slezak with a hula hoop, but I'm not sure that really conveys the experience. There are the costumes. And the sets. And . . . In the middle of one dance scene, rushthatspeaks said in a tone of wonder, "Gene Kelly is pole dancing." She was not wrong. I do not think I will ever need to drop acid now.

I think that's it for the day. My brother's wedding shower is tomorrow. The recently discovered daguerreotype of Phineas Gage makes me happy. Tell me something strange.

Comments

[rosefox]

Beet cake batter is a glorious shade of magenta, but the finished cake is beige.

[nineweaving.livejournal.com]

Nothing strange springs to mind.

Worldcon will miss you terribly, not least because you could write about it like this.

Raise high the roofbeam, carpenters! I wish the wedding pair all joy.

Nine

[ap-aelfwine.livejournal.com]

Glad to hear about the concert and the film.

I'm sorry you'll not make Worldcon, but I'm sure I'm not half as sorry as those who'll be there without you.

Congratulations to your brother and his fiancée! I hope they have a lovely shower.

[leahbobet.livejournal.com]

First, the serious thing: I will not be at Worldcon.

Well, boo. I am sorry to hear that.

[asakiyume.livejournal.com]

if Stravinsky did not exist, it would be necessary for mad scientists to invent him,

I could hear you say this.

The only place we've been together in flesh and blood is at Readercon, and I had the impression of standing with you outside some room with chairs, and you saying those words. I could hear your voice so clearly in my head.

The story of Phineas Gage scares me, and the sleeping half of his face in that daguerreotype also scares me.

Something strange: I will just have to refer you back to the first of my entries yesterday, about the C-5 transport plane dropping its tires over my town. Tonight I was talking with people who heard them fall. The life guard at the town beach saw them fall.

[ckd]

I'm sorry you won't be able to be at Worldcon. I hope things improve to make at least NASFiC possible for you next year.

[timesygn.livejournal.com]

Tell me something strange.

Okay.

Visit my blog for the last word on the Realms of Fantasy cover controversy.

[grimmwire.livejournal.com]

Booo! Was looking forward to hanging out with you at Worldcon. Guess we'll have to wait for... Arisia?

Hope things turn around for you soon.

Something strange: Kenneth Branagh is directing Thor?

[shewhomust.livejournal.com]

Them's fine T-shirts (and I know a bear would suit the bear...)

I'm very fond of The Pirate, though I realise this is not the universal view.

Something strange: there is only one land mammal native to Iceland (the arctic fox).

[seajules]

I'm not going to Worldcon, but I'm sorry to hear you're not, either. I would have loved to read your write-up of it.

Congratulations to your brother and his love!

The story and daguerreotype of Phineas Gage are marvels, and now a part of my brain is chewing over what he might see in his left eye. I'm not sure what you might count as strange, but my husband mock-poledanced at my heartsister's wedding last weekend, and I have been entertaining a guest from Vermont for the past few days. Given the contents of your entry, I find those interesting coincidences.